Читать книгу Texas Bride - Carol Finch, Carol Finch - Страница 7

Coyote Springs, Texas, 1880

J onah Danhill eased his injured left shoulder against the edge of the bathtub and sighed heavily. After spending eight grueling months with his company of Texas Rangers battling Mexican cattle thieves near the Rio Grande, he was more than ready for this hiatus. The gunshot wound he’d sustained had earned him a month of rest and relaxation. Jonah couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have somewhere he needed to be—immediately. It felt good to have time to himself instead of spending night and day tracking criminals and remaining on constant guard to ensure he didn’t get his head blown off.

He glanced at the mending wound on his arm and smiled wryly. Could’ve been his head—the bullet had come damn close.

Jonah surveyed his bare torso to note the scars that were souvenirs of his death-defying battles against the worst elements of society. He definitely needed to associate with a better class of people. The ones he dealt with on a daily basis kept trying to kill him. But then, he reminded himself as he reached out to grab a cheroot, even regular folks were twitchy about associating with half-breeds.

Arms and legs draped over the rim of a bathtub way too small to accommodate his six-feet-two-inch frame, Jonah lit the cheroot, then took a drink of whiskey. While blowing lopsided smoke rings in the air he assessed his lot in life and decided he was probably destined to ride with the Rangers until a well-aimed bullet caught up with him. There was nothing to do but enjoy and appreciate his recuperation before riding back to the Rio Grande to track down another gang of desperadoes.

This was his life, he mused cynically. He was stuck with it so he might as well accept the fact that his worth was measured by how well he served and defended folks who were incapable of protecting themselves from murderers, rustlers and thieves.

Lifting the whiskey bottle, Jonah took another drink. “To life,” he mumbled sardonically. “Fool that I am, I expect more from it. If the Hereafter isn’t an improvement I’m sure as hell gonna be disappointed.”

Jonah set aside the whiskey, clamped the smoking cigar between his teeth and grabbed the bar of soap. He’d just gotten himself all lathered up when the door flew open and a woman barged in unexpectedly. A wild tangle of curly golden-brown hair billowed around the woman’s face—a bewitching face that flamed with embarrassment when she noticed Jonah’s naked form sprawled in the tub. The private parts of his anatomy were concealed in sudsy water, but everything else was there for her to see. And she looked her fill, he noted.

Although her face blazed like a torch, she shook her finger at him. “Don’t you dare tell the two men chasing after me that I’m here,” she ordered hurriedly.

And then, to Jonah’s amazement, the woman dived under his bed and curled up in a tight ball in the shadowy corner.

“What in the hell—?” Jonah grumbled around the cheroot that was still clamped between his teeth.

An abrupt knock rattled his door. Without awaiting an invitation, two men filled the entrance.

“Shut the damn door!” Jonah barked gruffly. “I’m bathing!”

The two men—cowboys, Jonah presumed—closed the door behind them. Colorful bandannas encircled their necks and rawhide vests covered their faded shirts. Holsters, equipped with well-used six-shooters, rode low on the men’s hips.

“We’re looking for a woman,” one of them announced. “She stole money from us in Fort Worth and we followed her to Coyote Springs.”

“We thought we saw her come in here,” the other added as his assessing gaze panned the crudely furnished room.

“There’s no one here but me, and I plan to keep it that way.” Cautious by nature and by habit, Jonah reached down with his left hand to grab the Colt revolver that was concealed behind the bathtub. During his thirty years of existence he’d learned never to go anywhere or do anything without keeping his pistol within easy reach. “You’re intruding,” he snapped ominously. “Now get out. If I’d wanted an audience while I bathed I’d have sold tickets.”

“Are you sure you haven’t seen…?” The cowboy’s gravelly voice trailed off when Jonah’s pistol suddenly appeared. The deadly click of the trigger filled the silence.

“Out!” Jonah thundered in his most intimidating voice.

He continued to give the cowboys the evil eye until they’d backed from the room and shut the door. When the woman tried to wriggle out from under the bed Jonah made a slashing gesture with his good arm, demanding that she stay put until the two sets of footsteps faded into the distance.

When the coast was clear Maddie Garret came to her feet and willfully battled down the blush that left her face throbbing in rhythm with her pulse. Although her admiring gaze kept drifting up and down Jonah’s brawny body, she jerked her attention to the shaggy black hair that framed his rugged face. His bronzed skin, high cheekbones and chiseled features indicated Indian heritage, but his eyes were a startling shade of green and they showed curiosity and mistrust. It was difficult to maintain her composure while he kept his six-shooter pointed directly at her chest.

Six months earlier Maddie would have turned tail and run from such an awkward situation, and likely burst into tears after such a harrowing day. But she’d been tested repeatedly and forced to face one difficult situation after another. In addition, she was in need of immediate assistance and this man was the only person she could come remotely close to trusting.

“I’m dreadfully sorry about this interruption,” she blurted out. “But I need your help.”

He snorted and narrowed those intense green eyes at her. The smoke from his cigar drooped around his dark head like a fallen halo. This hard-edged law officer didn’t seem the least bit receptive or interested in her problems. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from a member of the legendary Texas Rangers, but Jonah Danhill wasn’t it. Even unclothed he looked invincible, intimidating and unapproachable. Yet he was the most magnificent study of masculinity that she’d ever laid eyes on and she couldn’t help but be fascinated by him.

“My name is Maddie Garret,” she said, introducing herself nervously. “And I most certainly did not steal money from those two men. They are trying to steal money from me!”

Her comment drew very little reaction from the powerfully built man sprawled in the tub. When Maddie’s betraying gaze darted to the sudsy water that concealed his hips, her face went up in flames—again. Damnation, it was humiliating enough to plead her cause, but pleading to a naked man whose physical attributes kept distracting her—to the extreme—was even worse. She couldn’t help but admire the rippling muscles, sleek contours and dark skin that glistened with water droplets.

Maddie gave herself a mental slap for gawking, grabbed a quick breath and hurried on. “I heard you were a Texas Ranger so I came to find you, hoping for your protection.” She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other and stared over his head—anywhere except at that incredibly masculine body. “The hotel proprietor refused to give me your room number because he knew that you didn’t want to be disturbed.” Her gaze darted to Jonah momentarily, then skittered away once more. “With those two men hot on my heels I was frantic to find a safe haven—and I needed to find one fast. I told the proprietor that I was your wife and if anyone was allowed to disturb you then it definitely should be me.”

Jonah’s dark brows nearly rocketed off his forehead. He sucked in his breath so abruptly that he choked on cigar smoke. “My wife?” he wheezed incredulously.

“I was desperate,” she said righteously. “I made a hasty trip from my West Texas ranch to Fort Worth to request a loan against my trust fund. My inheritance won’t be available until my twenty-first birthday. I can’t wait another three months to gain control of the money, because my younger sister has been kidnapped and she’s being held for ransom.”

“Kidnapped?” Jonah parroted as he surveyed the attractive female standing before him.

She reminded him of a pagan goddess in living flesh. Her pale yellow gown accentuated her feminine curves and swells. Golden highlights glinted in her hair. Amber shimmered in her thick-lashed eyes. The texture of her skin reminded him of honey. Jonah had seen a few strikingly attractive women in his time, but this female radiated beauty, spirit and determination, and his body involuntarily responded to the appealing sight of her. Jonah was damn glad the sudsy water concealed his stirring arousal.

Although it was obvious that Maddie was uncomfortable carrying on a conversation with a naked man, she seemed to be on an unswerving mission to present her side of the story.

“Yes, kidnapped,” Maddie confirmed as she began to pace restlessly. “Christina is fifteen years old and I’m sure she must be terrified by this ordeal. Worse, she is uncommonly attractive and I fear she will be set upon by the band of cattle thieves who spirited her away.”

Maddie halted abruptly and glanced in his direction. “Evidence indicates that renegade Comanches have escaped from their reservation and have returned to their former homeland to raid, rustle and terrorize ranchers. If I don’t pay the ransom within a week I might never see Christina again. I’m in urgent need of your help.”

Jonah inwardly winced when she mentioned the Comanche. Fifteen years earlier he had lived with his father’s people in West Texas—before the land was taken from the Indians and opened for settlement. Because of his bitter past Jonah had refused to take arms against his people in that part of the state. Aware of his mixed heritage, Jonah’s commander had not forced him to patrol the area. Instead, Jonah had been sent to subdue white outlaws and Mexican desperadoes who stole Texas cattle and drove them south of the border.

The very last thing Jonah wanted was to revisit his old stomping grounds and stir up bittersweet memories.

“Not interested,” he said abruptly. “I’m in town to recuperate from an injury.” He directed her attention to his mending shoulder. “I’m taking a long-awaited furlough. You need to speak with the sheriff who has jurisdiction in the county where your ranch is located.”

Her luminous eyes threw off molten sparks. “I have to cross a wild frontier, carrying a considerable amount of money, to even get the opportunity to ask for the sheriff’s assistance,” she countered irritably. “Reaching Fort Worth unscathed was difficult enough. Returning home will be worse because I’ll have those two thieves breathing down my neck.”

“If they are actually thieves.” Jonah smirked skeptically. “I’ve been around long enough to know better than to be taken in by a pretty face and a wild tale of kidnapping, rustling and robbery.” He rinsed the soap from his arms and chest, then puffed on his cheroot. “Now, make yourself scarce, Miz Garret. I’d like to get dressed.”

She tilted her chin to a defiant angle, braced her fists on her shapely hips and said, “I am not leaving this room until you promise to help me rescue my sister from death—or worse. You have an obligation as a ranger to aid and protect citizens in need.”

She was stubborn and determined, he’d give her that. But who was to say which side of the law she was really on?

“Lady,” he retaliated gruffly, “I don’t get paid enough to go haring off to West Texas with a mending arm. Besides, I’ve learned to take nothing at face value. Why should I protect a woman who has been accused of theft? And why should I believe a female who is probably feeding me a wild tale to prey on my sympathy?”

“Because I’m an innocent victim! I will pay you to escort me home and deliver the ransom,” she insisted sharply.

His bathwater was getting cold, but her temper was getting hot, he noticed as she glowered, trying to scare him into submission. Before he could reject her request again—and he certainly intended to—she flounced on his bed, jerked up her skirt and tugged at the hem.

Jonah gaped at her well-shaped bare legs and silky skin for a long, appreciative moment before he forced his attention to the bundles of paper currency she had stitched into her skirt. He nearly swallowed his cigar when she stamped over to the tub, grabbed his hand and slapped a bundle of money onto his palm.

“It appears that the only way to gain your trust is to pay you up front,” she muttered angrily. She dropped the remainder of the bundles atop the stack in his hand. “I am entrusting my inheritance to you, as well. If I wind up dead—and with two thieves on my trail that is certainly a possibility—I expect you to rescue my sister. Surely even the meager amount of sympathy and conscience you possess won’t allow you to ignore the welfare and safety of a terrified girl!”

When Maddie whirled toward the door, Jonah reflexively came to his feet. “Wait just a damn minute, lady. I’ve been saving lives left and right for a decade—”

She whipped her head around—to fling a sassy retort, no doubt—and saw Jonah standing there in all his splendor and glory. Her face exploded with color as she gasped for breath, shrieked, then lunged for the door.

Her departure was as spectacular as her grand entrance had been. She was gone as quickly as she had intruded into his room and into his life. Thank goodness.

Jonah chuckled in amusement. If he’d known that unintentionally exposing himself would have gotten rid of her so quickly he would have stood up earlier.

Dripping wet, he stared down at the small fortune curled in his fist. If handing him money was supposed to be a gesture of faith, he still wasn’t buying it. He was a man who did not trust easily. Those who did usually wound up dead and buried. For all he knew Maddie Garret was one hell of an actress, willing to do and say anything to ensure her protection and his cooperation. Even if it meant giving a melodramatic performance and leaving him holding what could very well be stolen money.

“Damn.” Jonah scowled. “And all I had asked of the first day of my recuperation was a nap, a bath and a meal that didn’t resemble trail rations.”

While it was true that finding sexual gratification was also on his agenda, he hadn’t expected to have a supposed wife barrel into his room. Not that he would mind a tumble with that disturbingly attractive female, but he’d be damned if he’d pay for it by being manipulated, betrayed and maybe murdered in his sleep. Maddie Garret, he predicted, would bring him nothing but trouble. Jonah had endured more than his fair share of it, thank you very much.

He hurriedly dried off, then pulled a clean set of clothes from his saddlebag. He rolled his dirty laundry around the bundles of money, crammed them in his leather pouch and stuffed it under the mattress.

For a few moments he contemplated the impulsive urge to turn his back on his profession, ride off to buy himself a few acres in an isolated area of Texas and avoid the complications of so-called civilization.

It was a tempting thought.

After a decade of battling cutthroats and inclement weather he was burned out and fed up with being a guardian angel for folks who wouldn’t give him the time of day if he weren’t saving their incompetent necks.

Jonah had volunteered to join the Texas Rangers for two reasons—one idealistic and one realistic. Given his mixed heritage, it wasn’t easy to find work, and the Rangers were anxious to recruit sharpshooting survivalists who had few obligations that tied them down. In addition, Jonah had been taught to respect the fearless battalions of Rangers who had become the epitome of law enforcement on the frontier.

It was said that Rangers could ride like Mexicans, track like Indians, shoot like mountain men and fight like the very devil. The Mexicans referred to them as Tejanos Diablos—Texas devils—and the Comanches held a grudging respect for them.

When Jonah was a young warrior of twelve his father had led him through some rugged terrain and told him to observe the impressive tactics of the Rangers. Jonah had watched and learned that day when outnumbered Rangers had pitted themselves against ruthless outlaws that preyed on Indians and whites alike. To his amazement, the courageous Rangers had won a decisive battle. The small battalion of hard-bitten, eagle-eyed crack shots had stared death in the face with fearless defiance and charged full steam ahead.

“Rangers don’t fight like white men,” Jonah’s father had said. “More like Comanches. They make dangerous enemies. Never forget that.”

The incident had made a strong and lasting impression on Jonah.

Jonah strapped on his holster, tucked a dagger in his boot—and one in his shirtsleeve—and wondered as he had before if his departed father would be pleased to know his son had become a Texas devil. For certain, his father would be relieved to know that Jonah had not been confined to the hated reservation, forced to depend on the army to feed and clothe him, and left with his pride in tatters.

Guilt slammed into him, as it did on too many occasions. He was free to choose his profession, while his oppressed people were left to the mercy of the government and the army.

Frustration and resentment put him in a sour mood. Jonah strode over to chug a drink of whiskey. He couldn’t help his vanquished people any more than he could change his mixed heritage. Life, he’d discovered, wasn’t a damn bit fair. But a man had to play the hand fate dealt him. Jonah had cheated death several times and counted himself lucky to be in one piece—more or less.

He stepped into the hall and locked the door behind him. If he’d thought to do that before he’d trudged wearily up the steps and collapsed in exhaustion, he could have avoided Maddie Garret’s unwanted intrusion. Now he was stuck with her money. He was certain he hadn’t seen the last of that animated and highly articulate female.

The answer was still no, he decided. Maddie could find herself another guardian and protector. Jonah inhaled a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he ambled down the hall. Maybe a decent meal would relieve his black mood. He’d be damned if he’d spend this hiatus sulking, wishing there was more to life than what he’d gotten. For sure, he was going to find a willing female who cared more about a few moments of pleasure than she did about the color of his skin. As long as the room was dark it didn’t matter who appeased a man or woman’s needs. Only that both walked away satisfied.

He set his mind on forgetting that the feisty Maddie Garret existed, but even as he crossed the street to enter the barbershop, a beguiling vision loomed large in his mind. He wondered where she was, wondered if she was concocting another fantastic tale of woe to feed some unsuspecting pigeon that might be lured in by her arresting beauty and her sharp intelligence.

She was probably devising a scheme to steal more money to add to the stash of cash she’d thrust at Jonah for safekeeping. If Maddie Garret turned out to be a shyster and con artist, he would derive tremendous pleasure in herding her to jail.

Furthermore, he didn’t approve of the way his body reacted to her, didn’t appreciate the immediate physical attraction. It made him feel vulnerable and defensive. She was a distraction of the worst sort. Jonah refused to get involved because he doubted she was telling him the whole truth—and nothing but.

The sooner she left town the happier Jonah would be.

Maddie crawled beneath the loose boards near the foundation of the livery stable, then sank down beside her satchel. Legs drawn up, she rested her elbows on her knees and covered her flushed face with her hands. Seeing Jonah Danhill rise from the tub like a mystical Greek god had shattered her composure completely. She was certain the sight of his muscular body would be emblazoned on her mind for all eternity.

How could she ever gaze at him again without remembering the way he looked naked? But she had to confront him again, because she had left the ransom money in his care.

Inhaling a bracing breath, Maddie glanced around the shadowy confines of the livery. She suspected she wasn’t the first unfortunate soul who had taken refuge here.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since she had stepped down from the coach and dined at the crude stage station west of Fort Worth the previous afternoon. The meal had been inedible and the companionship lousy. The threat of those two men hovering around like vultures, waiting to separate her from her money, had kept her in a nervous state of constant alert.

Maddie marshaled her resolve by reminding herself that her fear and frustration were nothing compared to the frightening nightmare Christina was enduring. Her sister was all the family she had left in this world, and despite the disheartening obstacles in her path, Maddie vowed to stand strong.

Even while the noble thought blazed through her mind, she felt her body slump in exhaustion. She had been operating on raw nerves for days on end. It would have been so easy to throw up her hands in defeat and fall apart, right where she sat. But her concern for Christina refused to allow her to give up this crusade. Her sister was counting on her.

Hold your head up high, daughter, her father used to say. Garrets don’t mope around with their chins scraping their chests. No one promised life would be easy. You just keep placing one foot in front of the other and don’t let the troubles that come your way get you down.

The quiet voice that whispered in her heart usually provided inspiration, but today it brought only tears and a lost, empty feeling that tugged at her soul. Maddie sniffled, wiped the tears from her cheeks, then curled up in the straw. Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and forced herself to unwind emotionally and allow her tense body to relax.

After giving herself an hour to rest, and ensuring that gathering darkness would work to her advantage, Maddie eased between the dangling boards and slithered from the livery. Clinging to the shadows, she stepped onto the boardwalk to return to the hotel to confront Jonah again. She intended to leave town at daybreak, and that bullheaded Texas Ranger was going to be riding horseback beside her, she vowed resolutely. He could come willingly—or not. His choice. But he was definitely accompanying her to West Texas to save Christina.

Maddie recoiled in alarm when an unseen hand snaked out to clamp over the lower portion of her face. She was jerked roughly back against a foul-smelling body.

“Gotcha,” one of the scoundrels sniggered in her ear.

Helpless frustration hammered through Maddie when her captor hooked his free arm around her waist, left her feet dangling in midair and carted her into the alley. She battled for all she was worth to escape imminent disaster, quickly discovering that it wasn’t fear that ruled her chaotic emotions, it was fury. She struck her heels against the man’s shins and bit a chunk out of his hand, forcing him to release her.

Once she was free to snatch a quick breath, Maddie screamed bloody murder, ducked her head and plowed into the second man, who stood directly in her escape route to the boardwalk. She was not going down without a fight, she promised herself as the top of her head collided with the man’s soft underbelly.

Maddie darted sideways when he swore foully and stumbled over his feet. She thought she was home free as she sprinted toward the street, but his partner tackled her from behind and sent her pitching forward in the dirt. Arms flailing wildly, Maddie kicked like a mule and screamed again at the top of her lungs. Expecting to be clubbed on the head with the butt end of a pistol any moment now, she flopped this way and that, hoping someone would hear her shouts of alarm and come to her rescue.

And sure enough, a hard thump connected with her skull, causing a starburst of color to explode around her. Maddie wilted in the dirt.

The world spun out of focus and swallowed her in silence.